Misty smoke surrounds her, keeps getting in my way.
I slide to the bartender, say pour a glass for me,
I'm pretty sure I came with her, but she ain't come with me.
Her lips are slightly parted, eyes follow swaying hips,
I hold myself from exploration with eager fingertips.
My drink is on the table, My soul is on the line,
I damn well know she'll bring me low but, man, I'm doing fine.
Sweet burning fire upon my lips, it travels down so smooth.
I feel invigorated but I still do not feel you.
The softest evanescence as electrified you move
Until the beat invades my feet, a subtle little groove.
The silky frigid heat of where I want so bad to be.
The curses and distain for who I am that rise in me,
The telling revelation of the life that has no key,
But the bottle has no bottom, though I’m falling I’m not free.